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A Most Singular Venture, An Elizabeth and Richard Literary Suspense #5

By Donna Fletcher Crow

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Chapter 1


“JANE AUSTEN AS A Queen of Crime?” Elizabeth looked up from her book with a frown. “Are you certain? I’m well aware of your fondness for the lovely Jane, but wouldn’t it make more sense to speak on Dorothy L. Sayers for this particular course?”
Richard’s craggy features softened into a smile. “Now that does take me back. As I recall we had a similar conversation twenty-some years ago when you insisted on dragging me off to that Sayers mystery week.”
“Twenty-four years ago to be precise. And aren’t you glad I did?” She reached out to him on the other end of the sofa, resting her hand lightly on his arm.
“Eternally grateful, my love.” He covered her hand with his. “Who would ever have guessed that a stodgy ex-publisher, English professor would become the author of crime novels?” He gave her hand a small squeeze, then let go to hold up his just-released book.
Their reminiscence was cut short by a series of short raps at the door. Elizabeth rose with a sigh. “Or that we would become houseparents to twenty lively youngsters.”
She opened the door to three of their charges from the Headington Boys School where Richard’s service as temporary housemaster had extended to a three-year contract. Jack, the sturdy blond who seemed to grow taller every time Elizabeth looked at him, strode in ahead of the smaller Stav and Nilay, of the snapping black eyes, who was waving a book. “This is wizard, sir.”
Richard let out his breath with a smile. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how concerned he had been about his boys’ assessment of the story that had included their adventure in Godmersham. It had seemed a good idea at the time to give them advance copies—only fair really—but if his three years of housemastering had taught him anything, it was that you never knew how the young would react to something.
“And you put us in it, too!” Stav and Nilay spoke at once.
Jack plopped down on the footstool without waiting to be invited. “It’s really wicked how the bad guy turned out to be an international spy.” He hesitated before going on. “But he wasn’t really, was he? I mean, it’s sort of that crime we helped you with, but it isn’t. What—”
“My mum borrowed mine,” Stav interrupted. “But I had to tell her you made up the stuff about our tackling the bad guys.”
“Best that mums don’t know some things,” Nilay agreed. “Thanks!” He took one of the Penguin bars Elizabeth was handing round. “Our mum already knows, though. Sahil told.” He made a face at the thought of his older brother who had graduated last year and returned to New Deli.
“Will you sign it for me, sir?” Jack held out his book with unaccustomed shyness.
“I’ll be delighted to, Jack. But are you certain you wouldn’t rather wait for the official signing? I understand Mr. Springer is making arrangements for your whole choir to come to the launch at Hatchard’s before you go on to St. Paul’s.”
Jack lowered the book. “Sure, I’ll wait. Ol’ Springs is dead chuffed to be in the book. We even get to miss maths to go up to London early.”
“Yeah, but we have to come back to take our exams before the summer hols,” Stav reminded him.
The mention of summer holidays prompted a general conversation. Stav would be visiting Israel with an aunt and uncle; Nilay going to see his family in India; Jack was the only one who didn’t seem excited about his plans. He shrugged when Elizabeth asked him. “I’ll be in London with my mum.” Then Elizabeth remembered hearing that Jack’s parents were divorcing.
“Well, then you’d better be about your revising, hadn’t you?” Elizabeth said with mock severity. “I trust reading Dr. Spencer’s book didn’t take too much time away from your assignments.”
The boys took the hint and, with a chorus of additional thank yous for the treats, tumbled out of the room. Elizabeth shut the door behind them, shaking her head with a smile. “Youthful energy. Now, about this summer course you’ve agreed to teach at the University of London…”
“I’m really surprised at myself. Three years ago I didn’t think I’d ever want to get back in a lecture hall. But I find I’m quite looking forward to it.”
“Not sorry you gave up your position at Rocky Mountain, then?”
“Not for a minute.” He shook his head. “Amazing, isn’t it? A whole new life, a whole new career at my age.”
“Well, Old Man, move over.” She plunked down on the sofa next to him again.
“And how about you? Glad you retired when you did?”
“Um hum.” Elizabeth nodded.
But Richard didn’t miss the pause before she answered. Nor the tepid quality of her reply. “Elizabeth, what’s the matter? I thought you loved living in Oxford.”
“I do.” Her response was quick enough. So why did he feel it should be followed by a ‘but’? He glanced down at the top of her head. Only a few grey streaks in her still-shining black bob. And he didn’t have to look to know her petite figure was still shapely. He stroked her cheek with one finger. Goodness, these days fifty-eight was still young. He was five years older, and he felt young. But Elizabeth had been head of the English department at Rocky Mountain, chair of two academic committees, and served on how many more, besides her full schedule of lecturing. Was she bored with their new life? With him?
“You’re sure you’re not sorry you retired?” He tried again.
Elizabeth’s chuckle didn’t sound too forced. “If you can call my de facto position as Mrs. Housemaster being retired. Although I am looking forward to writing that magazine article for Regency Realm.” Before he could probe further she changed the subject. “So, are you going to spend all three weeks lecturing on Jane Austen?”
“No, no. A week with Austen, then P.D. James…,” he paused for dramatic effect, “and finally—Sayers.”
Elizabeth gave a triumphant crow.
“Before you say, ‘I told you so,’ you need to know I’d planned it all along.”
“Of course you did, darling. Which books will you have them read?”
“Emma, of course—having them read it as detective fiction should be instructive for the most hardened Janeite. I’m not sure about Sayers, though. Should it be The Nine Tailors, focusing on how Sayers’ moral grounding dictated the outcome, or Strong Poison or Gaudy Night as a study of a strong heroine?”
“You’re asking me?” Her tone implied there couldn’t possibly be any doubt.
“Right. Gaudy Night it is.”
Elizabeth gave a satisfied nod. “And James?”
“Hard choice. I’m tempted to do something really off-beat and have them read The Children of Men—again for its moral grounding—but it isn’t a mystery as such, so I think I’d best stay with the canon and do a Dagleish. Death in Holy Orders, I think. It shows so well how James wrote out of who she was.”
“Ah, author authenticity. I recall you giving me that lecture after visiting a certain backwoods poet in New Hampshire, long, long ago when you worked for Caudex. I wonder if he ever regretted refusing to let you turn him into a superstar?”
Richard shook his head, thinking of his time working for the Spencer family publishing company. “Not as much as Caudex regretted losing him after he won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.”
“Which he probably wouldn’t have won, if he had given up on his focus all those years ago. Do you ever miss the publishing world?”
Richard shook his head. “Boston seems like a million miles away. As you say, another world. I do miss darling Granny, though.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, Alexandra was a lovely lady—she ruled her world with a silver teapot. Rather like the Dowager Duchess of Grantham.”
“It will be good to see Andrew again,” Richard continued the train of thought.
“Goodness, I’ve only seen him a couple of times since our wedding. When is he coming to London?”
“I don’t have the exact date, but it should be while we’re there. I sent him our schedule. Thought it might make it easier to connect.”
“How exciting for him to be bidding on those first editions of Austen’s books.”
“It’s even more exciting for Caudex. They want to publish facsimile editions of the originals, then sponsor a traveling exhibition to bookstores and Jane Austen events to promote the set. It would be a real coup—probably the most exciting thing our hyper-traditional publishing company has ever undertaken. I guess I’ll have to say that I’m surprised Andrew has the vision to take on the project. Maybe my little brother has more imagination than I gave him credit for.”
“What are his chances of being the successful bidder?”
Richard shrugged. “I don’t have any idea. I expect there could be a lot of competition. I think the set is supposed to contain one book actually signed by Jane. It all comes down to how much Caudex is willing to pay.”
“Or how much they can afford to pay.” Elizabeth added when Richard fell silent. “One reads so much these days about the publishing world being in such turmoil with all the publishers losing money.”
Richard gave a rather sardonic laugh. “It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? The almighty dollar. Still, into the third generation Caudex is managing to stay afloat. I’m just so thankful I’m not at the helm anymore. Reading the yearly stockholder’s reports is enough for me.”
Elizabeth returned to her book, but Richard found that his lecture notes for the up-coming course couldn’t hold his attention. How long had it been since he had seen his little brother? How well was his family’s publishing company doing? He had struggled valiantly to make a success of it all when it was thrust upon him, no matter how trapped he felt when his older brother was killed in a plane crash—even remembering those years working in a job he despised made his body tense.
And then Drew had, quite suddenly, dropped out of medical school, and Richard had been able to hand the company over to his enterprising younger brother, leaving Richard free to apply for the English professorship he truly wanted. Richard relaxed, his mind flooding with pictures of the contentment those twenty-some years had brought. Struggles too, of course, but one tended to dwell on the good times.
What he had said to Elizabeth was absolutely true—he was still a board member and stockholder in the company, but he had paid it very little attention beyond reading annual reports. So was he being absurd now, suddenly to think of taking an active interest? It wasn’t likely that Andrew would welcome his interference. After all, Richard knew almost nothing about the current state of affairs at Caudex.
Still, no matter how he argued with himself, he couldn’t make the tiny niggle of worry go away. He had seen an article recently about an uncut, three volume, first edition of Sense and Sensibility being offered for sale for a hundred thousand pounds. If each of the six books was to be offered at that price—probably with increased value as a complete set— Richard wasn’t certain of the current exchange rate but that must be getting close to a million dollars. Could Caudex afford such an investment? Plus the cost of producing facsimiles—complete with uncut pages and antique binding—was there a market for such expensive books? Had Andrew done his market research? Add to that the cost of mounting the traveling exhibit Andrew had so enthusiastically outlined in his last report to the board … Richard shook his head.
All that would mean little to one of the big six publishers, but Caudex, small and safe, could hardly afford such risk. Oh, he and Elizabeth would be all right if the stock crashed, even if he had to give up his much-valued retirement and take a regular lecturing position again—assuming he could find one. But Richard’s widowed mother was in an expensive assisted living home in California. Had Drew given any thought to how they were to pay such bills if his scheme failed?
Richard sighed, making Elizabeth look up from her reading. He forced a smile and she returned to her book, but Richard could find no such comforting distraction. He would have to confront his brother when they met in London in two weeks’ time.
 

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